Paper Ronin: The Xsoteric Hunt Rpg

There is a moment of supreme and divine clarity after awakening from the Golden Sarcophagus which is coupled with strange "medicines" that only the Falcon can uses as a vessel to reach the ethereal plane of reality the Order of Set call the Realm of Tombs. The moment of foresight and hindsight make the crimes of the next target into a composite 360 degree short film into the atrocities that have been committed. If it wasn't for the mental fortitude of the Paper Ronin his psyche would be severely damaged from the screams and cries for help that the victims let out when losing their lives to the evil soul he was tasked to hunt down.

Anubis only selected the most blackest of hearts that tipped his scale to the far left, or dark side. As Falcon ascended from his brief esoteric slumber and pushed back the top of his illustrious precious metal coffin that was decorated with his face in Pharaoh fashion , vapors rose with him and a floating pyramid that let light flow from it's seams spoke as he stood up with a daunting presence . His stature and physique was the apex of human anatomy , chiseled like the statues of the great Greek artist though even they could not do his body structure justice.

"I've recorded the vision and ran the images through our database. It seem's your newest target is a dangerous one." the computer who was housed in a floating pyramid and named after Great Royal Wife Nefertiti spoke but Falcon interrupted with bravado.

"They all claim to be dangerous."

"Yes king, but I'm the one making the claim. Based on the intel gathered you are going to be face to face with an Ultra-Sapien with skills that might even surpass yours. He has fought wars, changed governments, assassinated men thought untouchable , and killed supposed legends of combat." The Paper Ronin did not respond and walked over to an alter that rest under his white cloak of Set while lighting sticks of Kapet. Incense that gave a sweet scent of the Nile. Nefertiti followed him while he opened a set of mechanical doors that gave way to his personal armory.

"Where do I find him?" Falcon addressed his only friend with a stoic demeanor while gathering his gear. From the information relayed to him , he would need to come fully equipped.

"Africa."

Casa Blanca , Morocco

The flight to Africa was the easiest part of the hunt as of yet, due to the considerable difficulty it took to pinpoint the exact location of the elusive and illustrious Charlemagne LeBeau who moved under the night sky as he took a tour across the Motherland securing deals and arming tyrant rulers with weapons in exchange for loyalty and troops to fight for him in his Genocidal Crusade against mutants. Falcon thought it was the right time to capture his prey when Charlemagne enjoyed a stay on the wildlife preserve in the Sarengetti grasslands but he decided not to because he was one to take into detail the aesthetic of a death ritual. Especially for such a soul as the LeBeau's It had been days before the LeBeau would pop back up on his radar and Falcon knew there was no other time to act.

With a blazing red and orange light the sun began to sink into the Atlantic Ocean and The Moonlight Marauder had his target in sights. The Xsoteric assassin had decided after his previous run of indulging in the spirited night life of Morocco to take a moment of serenity in the colossal temple of worship known as the Hassan II Mosque. Falcon hoped the Last Arashikage had brought his weapons as he made his way into the house of God like a ghost following the footsteps of Charlamagne with a haunting silence.

For centuries the men who built the great mosque of Africa and Asia had created coliseums of great beauty that remained in tact for hundreds of years. The architecture of immense proportions and visual stimulants where inscribed with arabic in such geometric fashions that mathematicians today could not duplicate. Now it was time to redecorate the pristine marble halls with crimson liquid.

Falcon unsheathed his sword so that his opponent could hear the melodic tune of impending death. He remained silent and waited for the Killer of Knightfalls to turn around.

Of all the accolades and acclaim, recognition and respect, it were the losses and failed exploits that remained firmly seated within the Ultra-Sapiens sub-conscious. The idea of defeat had taken root and like all of the LeBeau's obsessions, these fundamental flaws continued to fester. Only through periodic isolation and esoteric seclusion could the LeBeau Legend continue to maintain his stoic sense of invulnerability. The laws of balance demanded such a seemingly harmless sacrifice and yet to the self-proclaimed Arashikage, they were a sign of weakness. But never the less, the meditative principles handed down to him by the very clan he had destroyed now served as his source of mental calibration.

Situated with upward palms resting atop his knees, legs crossed at the shins, the Ultimate Ubermensch silently cleansed his thoughts of impurities. But even with eyes relaxingly closed, the versatile excellence of his evolutionarily advanced optical array tracked the approach of an unknown entity. Opening only after the distinctive harmonization of a blade unsheathed sipped the spiritual air, briefly reflecting the moon's illumination off its metal appendage.

The mutant murdering zealot grinned or more appropriately, smirked. Still with back shown and no immediate indication that the new arrival was a registered threat, the Last Arashikage exhaled and rose to his feet. Rolling his wrists together in unison creating a temple like configuration with his hands before an isolated glimpse over the shoulder officially recognized the Ronin's presence. "Not a mutant" he spoke, mainly to himself with puzzled amusement. "Yet eager to court death." An arrogant grin flashed before disappearing beneath the veil of his one eyed mask. A ceremonial accessory, stolen from the Arcani Avenger, Amaranth. Re-purposed and customized like most of the stolen accouterments previously liberated from the Strigidae's secretive safe-house. One of many.

A smooth yet swift breeze flushed the checkered military style Keffiyeh around Charlemagne's neck, allowing it to perform with theatrical rhythm. Concealing the permanent scar traced around the sectarian's neck courtesy of the retired heroine, Mercy. A reminder that not all wounds heal so easily. Charlemagne proceeded to shift his posture with subtle intent, balancing his gait in preparation of the battle to come. His hand smoothly reached behind his back in order to clutch the hilt of his horizontally sheathed sword as it rested along his waist line, in true Arashikage fashion. "Well then, shall we?"

@the_xsoteric

711 AD. Tariq Ibn Zayid was one of the many legendary figures in history who wore the cowl of the Paper Ronin. With an army of seven thousand troops the Moorish General crossed the Andaluz and went from Spanish city to Spanish city until they controlled the entire peninsula. The Rock of Gibraltr was named after him , and Europe would forever be indebted to the Moorish Occupation of Spain as they ushered the country into an enlightenment period known as the Renaissance. Falcon could feel the mans essence drape over him as he pulled his crescent handled katana from it's sheath. The Ghost was somehow thrown back to a battle in which Tariq would be famous for , and the past Ronin caressed his being as he drew his sword fully from its sheath.

Standing face to face with the Black Mamba was not the reason for apprehension ,but the waves of the past that hit Falcon made him shudder with nostalgia. Being in Morocco must have somehow summoned the spirit of the past Paper Ronin. He could picture the apparition on his knees as he prayed under the dome like structure of the Mosque. "Bismillah". The ethereal body spoke to him and blew a new vigor into the Moonlight Marauder . With the sacred words of "In the name of God" Falcon initiated the death ritual with swiftness.

His first move was what he called "Shutter Step" . By producing a slight mirage of his body being shot into a series of vertical and horizontal slashes he produced an illusion that made a feint attack at his opponent and gave the look of teleportation. Quickly following up his mirror image he launched several Crescent Kunai with accuracy that couldn't have been obtained from years of practice. The tip of his blade kissed the marble floor as he dragged it along his side while he dashed through his own fading image with a quick kick aimed at the midsection of LeBeau followed by a flip into the air that allowed him to unleash a smoke bomb directly at the feet of the Death Merchant.

Falcon had heard of the mans impeccable eyesight but decided to test it out none the less. His voice sounded muffled under his mask.

"I will be the Vengeance for those you have sent to the other side unjustly."